Tales Out of School
by R-I-C-A-R-D
Summary: A light-hearted look at goings-on within the Circle of Magi. It's life in the Circle Tower. But not as you know it. Set some time before the start of events in Dragon Age.
1. Disciplinary Action

**Author's Note**After writing the typical Dragon Age fic based on my ingame character, I decided to take a light-hearted look at goings-on within the Circle of Magi.

It's life in the Circle Tower. But not as you know it.

**1. Disciplinary Action**

Senior Enchanter Tobias, like many of the Circle's instructors, was quite stricken with an ailment that proved particularly burdensome for his pupils - he _thought_ he was rather more interesting and exciting than he actually was. He _thought_ that his long-winded lectures pertaining to the School of Creation were thought-provoking and that the fresh-faced young apprentices who filed into class each day were just _desperate_ to hang on his every word.

He was quite wrong. The Senior Enchanter droned on and on. And _on_. His voice and speech patterns were as close to those of a Tranquil as it was possible to get without actually _being_ Tranquil. Tobias was famed throughout the ranks of young apprentices for his ability to send them to sleep.

That Tobias maintained the self-image of an exciting practitioner of spellcraft demonstrated a breathtaking level of self-delusion that fascinated his peers within the Circle of Magi.

Sitting in his usual seat - three rows from the back and two desks from the left of the doorway - apprentice Jowan struggled mightily to keep his eyes open as the Senior Enchanter blithered on about channelling mana and using it to restore the injured to full health. Yes, yes, all very important knowledge to have, Jowan supposed but he was rather more interested in learning how to use magic to _cause_ injuries rather than cure them.

Where was the fun in knowing how to cast spells if you couldn't blow something up or make a person dance around attempting to dodge lightning bolts? Instead of _talking _about how to use magic to heal people, Jowan further thought, wouldn't it be rather more instructive to have an actual _injured _person present for the students to practice on? It wasn't as though there wasn't already a steady supply of apprentices who found some way to injure themselves on an almost daily basis. Why, only last month, another young apprentice named Talitha had accidentally set her hair of fire.

But it was no good, not even the thought of comely young Talitha _on fire _could keep Jowan awake any longer. His heavy-lidded eyes slid closed and he fell fast asleep, chin on his chest.

Upon noticing Jowan slumped in his seat and snoring gently, Tobias slammed the tip of his staff into the flagstones beneath his feet. The staff impacted the stone flooring with a sharp _crack _and Jowan sat bolt upright at his desk, eyes wide open and shouted, "Magic exists to serve mankind and is to never rule over him!"

The rest of the apprentices tittered in amusement as a red flush of embarrassment crept up Jowan's face. They fell silent as Tobias swept the room with a harsh imperious gaze that would have done Knight Commander Greagoir proud.

"Well, I am glad that you have managed to learn at least_ something _during your time with us, Jowan," the Senior Enchanter said. "You are to report for disciplinary action after the day's lessons."

The rest of the assembled apprentices laughed at Jowan's misfortune. Jowan himself wished a hole would open up beneath him so he could disappear. Tobias raised his voice, "And unless the _rest_ of you would like to join him, I suggest you return your attention to page seven hundred and eighty three of your spell books."

As a whole, the apprentices groaned before returning to their studies.

---

In a similar room half-way around the circumference of the Tower, apprentice Talitha frowned in concentration as she attempted to focus her will on the tongue of flame flickering in the palm of her hand. She, along with twenty-five other apprentices were attempting to master the Primal School of Magic. A line appeared in Talitha's otherwise smooth brow, her eyes squeezed almost shut as she attempted to coax the flame into the foot-high column of fire required by the instructor.

Despite her best efforts, Talitha's mind, perhaps not unreasonably, kept jumping back to that horrible day only a month past when, under these same circumstances, she had lost her focus. The flame dancing in the palm of her hand had quite suddenly evaded her efforts to control it and had ignited her long chestnut hair.

Until that particular incident, Talitha's shoulder-length hair had been the envy of every girl in class. About half of it had gone up in acrid-smelling smoke before Senior Enchanter Catherine extinguished the flames by freezing Talitha's head almost solid. Afterwards, Talitha hadn't been able to decide which had been worse - the burning or the freezing.

Talitha shuddered at the memory; she could almost _taste _the smell of burning hair. "Focus!" the Senior Enchanter snapped and Talitha glared at her before redoubling her efforts.

A voice from the rear of the class called out, "Hey, she looks like she's constipated!" The rest of the apprentices began laughing at the expression of pained concentration on young Talitha's face.

"Focus!" Catherine again snapped and, voice rising, addressed the rest of the class, "The rest of you, pay attention!"

Despite her efforts, Talitha could feel the fire getting away from her. _If I can't control even this simple spell, the Circle will probably force me to become Tranquil!_

Oh, now _that _was an encouraging thought, having her connection to magic and the Fade severed and wiping out her emotions. She may as well drown herself in Lake Calenhad and be done with it.

"Maker's Breath, girl," Senior Enchanter Catherine said in a near-shout, "I said _focus!_"

"I'm focusing as hard as I can, you old biddy!" Talitha burst out...then blinked in amazement as the feeble candle-flame she'd been struggling with these last ten minutes suddenly burst into the raging pillar of fire the Senior Enchanter had wanted all along.

A collective intake of breath came from the rest of the students and the same apprentice who only minutes ago said she looked constipated now began applauding Talitha's efforts. The rest of the class joined in and Talitha allowed the flame to die, shoulders slumping with the strain. The teenage apprentice's robes clung to her back with perspiration. It had taken all of her control, but she had finally _done it_.

Senior Enchanter Catherine waited until the applause faded before turning to face the the smiling girl standing before her at the front of the class. "Disciplinary action," Catherine said in flat tones.

"_What?" _Talitha gasped in shock.

"What was it you said?" Catherine mused to herself, "Oh, now I remember..._old biddy,_ wasn't it? You'll learn to respect your betters, young lady, if nothing else."

"But..." the apprentice mage said helplessly.

"Or would you prefer that I turn you into a statue and leave you on the shores of Lake Calenhad as a warning to future apprentices?"

Talitha's luminous brown eyes went wide in fright and she shook her head vigorously.

"Clever girl. Now get back to your seat!"

---

With the last of the day's lessons completed - a class known colloquially as 'Potion Making for Fun and Profit. Mostly Profit' - Talitha rose from her desk, collected her weighty leather-bound spell tome and shuffled out the door. "Disciplinary action," she muttered to herself. "Yay. An hour spent writing _I will respect my betters _over and over while the bloody Templars stand over us just in case we decide to turn maleficar right there!"

William, another young apprentice began walking alongside Talitha as she headed down the hall. William too frequently ran afoul of the Circle's Templar-supervised disciplinary practices. It had not gone unnoticed by Talitha that William always seemed to get himself assigned to disciplinary actions on the very same days that she did. The sixteen year old apprentice did not believe that this was coincidence.

On the one hand, Talitha thought, it was kind of sweet, William getting himself into trouble just he could sit next to her while she wrote _I must learn to focus_ a hundred times. On the _other _hand, Talitha thought, it was a bit disturbing. William was almost old enough to undergo the Harrowing, Maker preserve her.

"So, disciplinary action?" William asked as he fell into step alongside the younger girl. "What'd you do this time, set the First Enchanter's chambers on fire?"

"Ha ha, very funny," Talitha griped as she dodged around a pair of plate-armoured Templars. Talitha didn't much like the Templars. They were a constant reminder that the Chantry kept even the most skilled of mages on a very short leash. And she was hardly the most skilled of mages. There were more than a few rumours, passed along in hushed whispers to the effect that people joined the Templars just so they could hunt down rogue mages and torture them.

Still, not all the Templars were like that, she thought. There was that young Templar-in-training Alistair who was something of a rarity within the Chantry in that he possessed a sense of humour. That he was rather cute didn't hurt matters either, Talitha admitted to herself.

Rounding a corner, Talitha and William came face to face with the young man in question, almost as though the Maker Himself had placed him there at that precise moment just to see what would happen. Alistair walked alongside another, more senior Templar as the two discussed something in low tones.

As Talitha and William came into view, Alistair nodded briefly to them and smiled slightly at Talitha before continuing past.

"Maker's breath!" Talitha gasped, looking back over her shoulder as she walked, "He smiled at me!"

"Yes," William replied drolly, "He's _so-ooo _dreamy!" He winced as Talitha punched him in the shoulder, "Ow!"

"Why do you have to be such a _pig _about things?" Talitha snapped and pushed past William into the chamber set aside for disciplinary actions. Still rubbing his aching arm, William followed.

Jowan looked up as the two new-comers entered the room. Ten of the twenty-five seats were occupied. The mage in charge of supervising the students barely noticed the new arrivals, engrossed as he was in a book of erotic literature from Orlais. _Those Orlesians certainly possess some peculiar bedroom habits,_ he thought. Not that he was complaining. It was certainly more interesting than the Chant of Light.

A Templar by the door ordered Talitha and William to sit down. Another two Templars stood at the rear of the room, ready and more than willing to smite any mageling who even _looked _like they were going to cause trouble. Talitha rolled her eyes and glanced at the sheet of parchment on Jowan's desk as she took her seat.

The parchment was half full of the same sentence laboriously written over and over, _I will not fall asleep during studies_

Talitha dipped her quill into the inkwell on the desk and sighed.

It was going to be a long hour.


	2. Ahhh! Abomination!

**2. Ahhhh! Abomination!**

Nobody quite knew how _it _happened, though there were certainly plenty of rumours. Though they varied wildly in the details, all the gossips were in agreement on the central point - that a mage in the Summoning Sciences chambers had either accidentally, or perhaps purposely, summoned a demon from the Fade which promptly proceeded to possess the mage, turning him into a horrendous abomination.

It was every sane mage's worst nightmare come to life - made into a meat-suit in which a demon could rampage around in. At least until the Templars fell upon it with righteous fury and hacked it into small bloody pieces. The Templars always seemed to be at great pains to describe, in gory detail, exactly _how _they had killed an abomination.

The implication was very clear to every mage in the Tower - allow yourself to become possessed by a demon and _you _too will be hung, drawn and quartered before being flung from the highest window of the Tower to land on the shores of Lake Calenhad where _other _Templars would then set what remained of you on fire.

Talitha and William, however, had no need of rumours to tell them what had happened. For they had witnessed at least part of it.

---

The day began like any other: Awake at the crack of dawn, breakfast watched over by Templars, half a day of various studies, midday meal watched over by the Templars, another half-day of studies, evening repast watched over by the Templars, prayers in the Tower's Chapel...watched over by the Templars and, finally, bed. Talitha did not know for certain whether or not the Templars watched her and the rest of the apprentices as they slept but it was probably a safe bet.

Indeed, had Talitha possessed more than a few coppers, she _would _have bet on it and quite likely make a huge profit. On this particular day, Talitha awoke with the memory of a dream at the forefront of her mind.

"I had a really strange dream last night," she said to William at breakfast. As usual, the older apprentice had managed to seat himself at Talitha's table, though he more properly belonged with the other apprentices soon to undergo the Harrowing.

"Really?" William asked, loading the question with all manner of innuendo. Just in case she hadn't caught the tone of his inquiry, William waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Not _that _kind of dream, you sick degenerate!" Talitha hissed. William looked hurt.

"What'd I say?" he protested.

"It wasn't _what_ you said, it was_ how _you said it!" Talitha snapped, drawing looks from the surrounding mages-in-training.

William raised his hands in surrender, "Alright, I'm sorry! What kind of dream was it?"

"I dreamed I was being chased by giant spiders," Talitha said, pulling apart a piece of bread.

"That's it?" William asked, disappointed.

"What do you mean, _that's it?" _Talitha frowned, "Giant. Spiders. Spiders, William. Huge, hairy, eight-legged..." she trailed off with a shudder.

William smirked at her from across the table, "I ever tell you about that dream I had where I was visited by a desire demon and she-" he halted abruptly as the girl glared at him.

"Too much information, William," Talitha flatly stated.

"Correct as always, dear lady," the senior apprentice said, nodding gravely. Talitha eyed him levelly for several moments before returning to her meal.

"What's your first lesson for the day?" William asked, partly because he was honestly curious but mostly because Talitha had a nice voice and he liked to listen to it.

"Potion Making for Fun and Profit," Talitha answered, spreading honey imported from Antiva on her bread. Antivan bees, she decided, knew how to produce nice honey. Antivan bees could probably give Ferelden bees lessons in how to produce nice honey.

"They teaching you how to brew anything _interesting?"_ William asked, casting glances around to make sure the other students weren't taking an undue amount of interest in them.

"Interesting how?" Talitha replied and bit into the bread. "Ohhh this _honey..."_ she sighed contentedly. Then, upon seeing the expression on William's face, "What?"

William covered a laugh with one hand, "The look on your face just now was priceless. _Ohhh this honey!"_ he said in a falsetto.

Talitha merely smiled sweetly and replied, "If you want to wear it, keep that up."

William smirked at the girl, "Are you offering to smear honey all over me, Talitha?"

Wordlessly, the younger apprentice picked up the glazed earthenware bowl containing the honey and dumped the contents on William's head. Talitha swept from the Tower's common area amid a chorus of cheers and applause.

---

"I do hope you have _some _explanation for your conduct at breakfast this morning?" Wynne asked of Talitha in her grandmotherly way."I understand that young William has a knack for getting under a person's skin at times but I would not like to see a promising young apprentice such as yourself ruin her studies in the Circle by upending the contents of a bowl of Antivan honey on his head."

After the festivities at breakfast that morning, Talitha had reported straight to disciplinary action, fully expecting a tongue-lashing most harsh. She would have ended up there sooner or later, so why delay the inevitable? Instead she found herself having a comparatively pleasant conversation with the elder mage, Wynne. Even so, Talitha shuffled her feet in embarrassment and felt her cheeks burn at Wynne's mild rebuke.

"I apologise, Senior Enchanter," she replied, "But William," she paused, knowing how petty she must sound to the older woman, "implied that I wanted to smear honey all over him." Talitha's face burned even hotter at the thought.

The grey-haired elder mage merely raised an eyebrow. "Did he, now?" _Poor dear, she looks absolutely mortified_, thought an amused Wynne.

"Not that I ever would!" Talitha hastened to add, shaking her head to underscore her denial, truncated locks of chestnut hair flying about.

Wynne was satisfied that the girl had intended no malice and noted that while Talitha _could _have set William aflame she hadn't, demonstrating great self-control and restraint for an adolescent. The elder mage saw by the still-embarrassed expression on the apprentice's face that she would not soon forget that even the smallest of actions bore consequences and that one should consider their actions carefully.

"Very well, Talitha. Let us speak no more of this," Wynne spoke gently. Wynne smiled at the relieved expression on the girl's face, "Now run along or you'll be late for your lessons."

"Thank you, Senior Enchanter!" Talitha all but gushed and half-ran out the door towards the dormitory where she collected her spell book and potion making apparatus.

Back in the hallway outside the dormitory, Talitha was almost knocked over by a group of mages, both human and elven, wearing what appeared to be identical expressions of utter horror on their faces.

Talitha stumbled back against the hard stone wall, barely holding onto her spell tome and potion bottle. "What is happening?" she called after the fleeing mages. An elven mage cast a terrified look back at her and shouted, "Abomination! In the summoning room!" The elf tucked his head between his hunched shoulders and ran for all he was worth, leaving behind a stunned Talitha.

_Abomination? In the Tower?_ Oh but that wasn't right. That wasn't right _at all_. The spell book and glassware dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers, thudding heavily to the floor and smashing into fragments respectively. A single thought burst into the centre of Talitha's consciousness, burning like fire crystals: Today was the day the older apprentices attended lessons in the summoning rooms. "William!" Talitha's voice came out in a kind of strangled wheeze as she sprinted down the hall, hem of her robes fluttering around her ankles.

William was, at times, supremely talented at getting under her skin, as Wynne had noted and he had definitely crossed a line with the honey comment but he was still her friend and she had too few of them as it was to risk losing him.

Without her being consciously aware of it, Talitha's feet carried her to the corridor that led to the summoning chambers. Rounding a corner, Talitha ran headlong into somebody coming from the other direction and recoiled with a gasp.

"Talitha?" William asked, that perpetually amused smirk on his stubble-flecked face, "Where's the fire?" and chuckled at his own wit. For her part, Talitha couldn't decide whether she should throw her arms around William and praise the Maker that he was safe or smack him for frightening her. So she did both.

"Talitha? What's gotten into you-ow!" William winced as the extremely agitated young woman first hugged him with surprising strength before smacking him in the chest with a dainty fist.

"Maker be praised!" Talitha blurted and, on the heels of that, "Don't _ever_ scare me like that!"

William rubbed a confused hand along the stubble that just couldn't find the will to become anything more than the promise of a beard. "Talitha," he began, choosing his words carefully, "While I _do_ enjoy the sensation of your arms around me, I take exception to you constantly smacking me. Is there something wrong?"

Talitha bent over herself, clutching her knees as she attempted to pull more air into her lungs. She straightened up, the look of outright fear on her face replaced with one of incredulity. "You have absolutely _no_ idea about what's transpiring here, do you?" she breathed, "Why does that not surprise me?"

"I heard some sort of commotion but I was assisting one of the Tranquil in the storeroom down the hall," William cocked his head back the way he had come.

"So you _weren't _in the summoning chamber?" Talitha asked. Her knees went weak, such was the depth of her relief. The young woman stumbled forward and William steadied her, placing a hand on each shoulder.

"Talitha, be a dear and tell me what's going on," William asked calmly and patiently.

"I was on my way to my first lesson and a group of mages ran past me shouting about an abomination loose in the the summoning chamber!" Talitha spoke rapidly, words tumbling from her mouth as she endeavoured to impart the situation with the proper gravitas. Her efforts did not seem to pay off, however

William's blue eyes seemed to light up at the word _abomination_. "An abomination? Here, in the Tower?" he asked, voice betraying his excitement. _This_ he had to see!

"Yes! An abomination _here _in the Tower!" Talitha grabbed her friend's hand and tugged at his arm, hoping to get him to follow her. William had other ideas, however and gently prised her hand from his.

"Don't you want to see it?" he asked excitedly. "I mean, a real abomination! Maybe we can even be the ones to kill it!" William's imagination was alive with the possibilities - the two of them slaying a powerful abomination _and _showing up the vaunted Templars at the same time. The prestige such an act would grant them; the instructors would stop treating them like children for a change.

"William, come on!" Talitha begged, suddenly on the verge of tears. _Why_ was he being so _stupid_ about this? _He's a man_, a voice, surprisingly calm and mature spoke in her mind. The voice sounded as though it more properly belonged to a woman who had seen over thirty summers, not herself.

In the space of time between one heart beat and the next, several thoughts passed through Talitha's mind: _If I let him go alone, he'll be killed for sure! If I go with him, we'll both be killed! We should wait for the Templars! Where ARE the Templars, enjoying high tea with the Grand Cleric?_

In the end, she made what was perhaps the only decision she could have, given the circumstances. She took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the summoning chamber. Maybe she could save him from himself.

---

The two apprentices - one alive with excitement, the other trembling with fear arrived at the doorway to the summoning chamber and halted abruptly. A horrific wet ripping sound came from within accompanied by dull snapping sounds, undoubtedly the bones of whomever the abomination was currently tearing apart. The ripping and snapping sounds combined with an inhuman roar, creating an infernal cacophony of sound.

"That doesn't sound good," Talitha spoke in curiously calm tones, taking refuge in gallows humour.

William looked sidelong at her, eyebrows raised, "Your talent for understatement is exceeded only by your beauty, dear lady."

A shadow seemed to pass over the girl's face and she hissed angrily at William, for now unmindful of the current situation, "Let me make one thing very clear: You are _not_ going to charm me into your bed with constant flattery. I like you as a friend though there are times such as right now when I could cheerfully strangle you!"

William's eyes went wide as something large and only vaguely human-shaped appeared in the summoning chamber's doorway, slicked with the blood of its victims. Tattered remains of a mage's robe clung to it in places, testament to the sheer unholy force that had possessed the mage, almost doubling it in size and shredding the clothing from within.

Talitha caught the look on William's face, "It's right behind me, isn't it?" she guessed, falling back on that black humour she hadn't even known she was capable of until now. William nodded mutely, face slack with shock.

The abomination tipped its head back and roared, arms spread so wide that its clawed fingers gouged stone from the the walls. The magelings backed away on trembling legs, all thoughts of slaying abominations and showing up the Templars banished from William's mind. The abomination cocked its mis-shapen head to one side at an unnatural angle and considered them as they backpedalled, as though trying to decide whether pursuing them would be worth the effort involved.

The creature's head straightened and it lumbered towards them, each footstep seeming to shake the very stone floors. Talitha and William continued to fall back until they came up against something hard and unyielding. Talitha whirled around, mouth open to scream and almost collapsed in relief - they had backed up most of the way they had originally come, right into a trio of Templars clad in plate-mail, faces concealed beneath helmets. Leading them was none other than First Enchanter Irving himself.

Never had an apprentice been so glad to see the Chantry's attack dogs as Talitha and William were at that moment. William even managed to dredge up some of his customary irreverent humour. "Out for a nice walk this fine morning, First Enchanter?" he asked though his normally confident demeanour was gone.

"Are either of you injured?" Irving asked and, though his grey-bearded face clearly showed his concern at the current situation, his manner remained calm and as reassuring as the circumstances allowed. Talitha shook her head, dark eyes wide in a face gone almost white with shock, "Th-there's an abomination, right behind us!"

Irving's face hardened and he quickly ushered the young ones behind himself and past the Chantry's warriors.

The abomination shambled around the curve of the wall and stopped upon seeing the Templars and First Enchanter.

Irving rapidly whirled his staff above his head before slamming the tip down into the floor between his feet. An intense burst of blue-white arcane energy erupted from the staff's point of impact, washing over the abomination and driving it back with a howl. Irving stood tall and bellowed, "You shall not pass!" Drawing from deep reserves of mana, the First Enchanter paralysed the abomination before it could recover enough to launch an attack of its own.

"By Andraste's Grace," the lead Templar shouted to his brother warriors, "Slay the foul being!" As one, the three holy warriors closed in around the abomination and commenced hacking it into small bloody pieces.

Talitha stood in the corridor, fingers jammed into her ears to block out the sounds, eyes squeezed shut, though what she had already seen and heard would stay with her for some time to come and, when William wrapped his arms around her shoulders in a comforting embrace, she didn't pull away.

Eyes still closed and fingers blocking her ears, Talitha told her friend, quietly yet firmly, "Don't even _think_ of attempting to steal a kiss, William."

William smiled but said nothing.

**A/N: **Gandalf from the Lord of the Rings movies came to mind as I wrote this, hence the Irving dialogue. Thank you to the reviewers.


	3. Practical Demonstration

**3. Practical Demonstration**

It was the ankle-length robes worn by apprentices, mages and clergy alike that caused Talitha to trip and tumble down the flight of stone steps linking the first and second floors of the Tower. At least, that was her version of events and she was sticking to it. She was careful to leave out the fact that she had been running late for lessons _again_ which had led to her attempting to negotiate the Tower's curving stairways faster than was perhaps safe.

But Talitha was loath to admit to falling down a flight of stairs because she had been running around like a small out of control child rather than walking at a measured pace more befitting a young adult.

Besides, the hem of her robes _had_ impaired the movements of her ankles and had at least _contributed_ to her losing her footing, resulting in her tumbling halfway down the flight of stairs, coming to rest on the hard and unyielding stones of the first floor. In the young woman's mind, the sounds of the fall had been almost comical.

_Thud-Ow!-Thump!-Maker's Blood!-Thud,thump, thud-That felt like a rib breaking! _Finally, her head rapped the stone floor with such force that starbursts of brilliant colour bloomed momentarily before her eyes. The starbursts faded, only to be replaced by a creeping blackness that encroached on the edges of her vision.

Talitha lay on the cold flagstones, dazed and in some pain. Her right cheek pressed solidly against the floor and was it just her imagination or was that a trickle of blood coming from her hairline? Seemingly from a great distance, the sound of foot falls impinged on her half-conscious state. Talitha managed to open her eyes enough to see the slightly scuffed toes of leather boots protruding from beneath the hem of Chantry robes.

Slowly, Talitha shifted her head and looked upward, gaze travelling past the boots to the familiar face of their owner. The movement of her head and neck was not without cost, however as a sharp pain scythed through her skull. "Ohhhh," she groaned, face half-numb from where it was pressing into the floor.

"Maker's Blood!" the owner of the boots said, half in concern and half in amazement. "You certainly know how to make a grand entrance."

"Nice to see you too, Alistair," Talitha managed to say though she found it difficult to form the words. _That would be due to the swelling of your jaw_ a voice in her mind helpfully pointed out.

"We should get you to the healers," Alistair said as he went down on one knee beside the apprentice mage. The novice Templar looked from where Talitha lay before him to the curving flight of stairs. "You fell from all the way _up there?_" he marvelled.

When the apprentice didn't answer, Alistair asked, "Are you able to walk?" _Maker have mercy on her, but this looks bad._

_Give me a break, _Talitha thought but didn't say, _I can barely move!_ However, knowing she couldn't remain at the bottom of the stairs lest somebody mistake her for a doormat, the apprentice slowly rose to her hands and knees, limbs shaking, pains both dull and acute making their presence felt. The movements of her upper body made what had been a dull ache in her right side flare into white-hot pain as though a sadistic hand had run a silver sword of mercy between her ribs.

A few drops of blood fell from her forehead to land on the grey flagstones beneath her face. Talitha's brown eyes blinked a few times as she deduced that those spots of blood had, in fact, originated from inside her own head. "Maker's teeth," she half-moaned then gasped as strong arms gently but firmly helped her to stand upright. The whole of Thedas seemed to tilt alarmingly on its axis before settling back into place.

Slowly Alistair and the battered apprentice made their way along the halls, bearing towards the rooms used by the Tower's healers. As they walked, Alistair kept up a stream of soothing talk. "I fell down a flight of stairs once," Alistair said cheerfully, "I was playing tag with another boy in the Chantry and just lost my balance on the steps." Alistair paused and, when he spoke again, his voice turned musing, "Or maybe the other boy tripped me."

"Wait, wait, stop!" Talitha spoke rapidly as an idea, perhaps inspired, perhaps simply the result of her head injury came to her. "Take me to Senior Enchanter Tobias instead!"

Alistair, still supporting the apprentice with one arm, turned his head to look at her. Though the girl's face was ashen with obvious pain, her eyes seemed clear enough. "He's in class at the moment," Alistair replied, trying to work out what Talitha was up to.

"That's what I'm counting on," Talitha said in a tone that would brook no argument.

---

Jowan covered a yawn with one hand, while the fingers of the other hand drummed rapidly against the surface of his desk. Tobias was, as usual, droning on about...something, Jowan honestly didn't know what. Tobias could have made something exciting sound boring and he made things that Jowan _already_ found boring even more so. He sighed, eyeing his fellow students. They too wore a look that suggested they were on the verge of falling asleep with their eyes open.

"And so by channelling mana, a skilled healer can bring back a person from the very brink of death itself," Tobias intoned.

_But no amount of mana-channelling could bring us back from the very brink of dying of boredom!_

Jowan looked up as a pair of robed figures entered the room - one clad in a Chantry robe, the other in rumpled-looking apprentice robes. With some surprise, Jowan noted the apprentice was Talitha. Jowan further noted the blood drying on her forehead and the general set of her body as though even the slightest movement pained her.

Senior Enchanter Tobias halted mid-drone as that young upstart Alistair and the accident-prone Talitha entered the room. A low murmur rippled through the assembled apprentices at this unexpected development in an otherwise lustreless session. Tobias silenced the murmurs with a single wordless glare at his young charges before turning his attention to the pair at the door.

"What is the meaning of this intrusion?" Tobias demanded, arms crossed over his chest, eyes the colour of used dishwater narrowing at the pair before him.

"Well, Ser Mage," Alistair began, "The young lady here took a tumble down a flight of steps and-"

Tobias silenced him with a glare and a raised hand, "Then take the foolish child to a healer! Why bring her here?"

Talitha's mouth gaped slightly as another low murmur began throughout the students. Foolish....child? "If it pleases the Senior Enchanter," she began, wincing slightly at the pain in her side and struggling to keep her voice level, "I have often heard the students discussing how much they would appreciate the chance to practice the arts of healing magic in a more practical fashion."

Stepping carefully away from Alistair, Talitha hobbled to the front of the class, feeling aches in muscles she never knew she had until now. Talitha held her arms out by her side, trying to ignore the spots of blood on the front of her robe and said, "I offer _myself_ as a practical demonstration."

Tobais snorted in disdain, "This is absurd! These students barely possess the will to heal a simple scratch, much less multiple contusions and-"

Alistair cleared his throat, not bothering to suppress the grin on his face, "Why, one would get the impression that you lack confidence in your pupils _and _your own teaching methods...Ser Mage." A number of the apprentices, Jowan among them, laughed softly. Oh, later they would all pay for this in spades. For now, this little diversion was the most interesting thing to happen during a Creation lesson since...ever, in Jowan's experience.

Tobias' eyes went so wide, they seemed about ready to fall from their sockets . "This is outrageous! The Grand Cleric _will_ hear about this! I'll not have some impudent _boy_ speak to me so. And _you," _Tobias levelled a finger at Talitha, "You do yourself and the Circle no favours at all with your antics!"

Jowan felt compelled to speak out in support of Talitha, "But Senior Enchanter," he began and almost wished he had kept silent, given the look Tobias aimed at him. Jowan gulped and forged ahead, "How can we learn to become better healers if we do not have the opportunity to practice our skills?"

The other students nodded in agreement, and a chant of "Practice! Practice! Practice!" began from somewhere up the back and was quickly taken up by the entire class. By the door, Alistair laughed softly, glancing at Talitha. Bloodied but unbowed, she stood before the class, surprised by this turn of events.

Tobias threw up his hands in disgust, "Fine!" he snapped, running a hand through greying hair, "Do what you will but I want no part of it! If something should go wrong, be it upon _your _heads!" The harried Senior Enchanter swept an arm to include both Alistair and Talitha before stamping out of the room, muttering a litany of curses.

"Well," Alistair said brightly even as the enraged mage pushed past him, "Seems like you're in charge of the class, now."

Talitha blinked, surprised. "Me?" she asked weakly. The students nodded, faces rapt. Talitha looked over at Alistair; the novice Templar nodded encouragingly.

"You should probably do something about that head injury first," he suggested, tapping an identical spot on his own forehead.

Talitha placed a hand to her head and found the blood had mostly dried; a few dark red flakes clung to her fingers. "Right," she said, forcing herself to sound more confident than she was, "Who wants to heal the cut in my head?" Twenty-five students raised their hands, faces keen and eager to begin. It was a show of enthusiasm the likes of which was rarely seen within the Tower's confines.

Talitha pointed at Jowan - had he not spoken up in her defence, they'd not have this chance at all. In his haste to test himself, Jowan pushed his chair back so quickly it fell over. Standing beside Talitha, Jowan asked, "Does that hurt very much?"

"I fell down a flight of stairs, Jowan," Talitha said, not unkindly, "What do _you_ think?"

Jowan raised his right hand as though to stroke Talitha's hair, holding it just over the cut in her head. A warm soothing glow enveloped Jowan's hand and illuminated Talitha's head in an almost angelic aura. The other apprentices _oohed_ and _aahed _as the light shimmered and the gash in Talitha's head simply vanished, leaving no trace other than the already-dried blood.

Jowan returned to his seat, a self-congratulatory smile on his face. Talitha waited until the class settled down before asking for another volunteer. Talitha held a hand to her side, below her right breast and asked the question she already knew the answer to, "Who wants to try healing my ribs?"

Every boy in class raised his hand, eagerly waving them in the air. A few even called out, "Pick me! Pick me!" Standing by Talitha, Alistair chuckled to himself.

Ignoring the boys entirely, Talitha saw an elven girl about her own age seated at the back of the class and walked up the aisle between two rows of desks until she stood before her. "What's your name?" she asked the elf. The elf turned wide blue eyes up at her and answered shyly, "Alliara."

Talitha smiled, hoping to put the girl at ease, "That's a nice name. Does it mean something?"

The elf blinked at her and shrugged, "It means Alliara." The elf rose from her seat and followed Talitha to the front of the room.

A boy called out, "Why are picking her instead of one of us?"

Talitha smiled. "Because I can trust her to not _accidentally_ brush a hand across my chest whilst healing my ribs is why."

The boys groaned, disappointed. Alistair smiled at Talitha, "Hey," he said, "You can't blame a man for trying."

Talitha shook her head as Alliara performed a laying on of hands. "Don't encourage them."


	4. A Tale of Two Harrowings

**4. A Tale of Two Harrowings**

When the Templars came for him, William was in the midst of a rather pleasant dream involving comely young elven maidens wearing nothing but a smile. A mailed hand gripped his shoulder and roughly shook him awake.

That apprentices were summoned for their Harrowing in the dead of night was common knowledge. The _why_ and _how _of it were closely guarded secrets, however. Down through the years, though, occasional pieces of gossip and rumour had filtered their way through the Circle hierarchy and William felt that he had gleaned more details of the Harrowing than either the senior mages _or_ Chantry would be comfortable with.

The Chantry likely believed that pushing a mage into the Fade while they were still only half-awake and thus less mentally prepared would make the apprentice an easier target for the demons that existed within the Fade. An ill-prepared apprentice, a demonic possession, the sword of mercy through the heart - the result? One less cursed mage for the Chantry to keep an eye on.

"All right, all right, I'm awake!" William spoke in a harsh whisper to the pair of unsmiling Templars he found standing over him.

"Get up and get dressed, apprentice. It is time for your Harrowing." An unpleasant smile creased the Templar's face."You'll understand if I don't wish you luck."

"Give me a minute," William snapped back, half defiant at the Templars and half anxious about what was to come. He was a skilled apprentice, even if he said so himself but he wasn't without doubt and everybody had heard tales of even experienced mages losing themselves to a demon. The Templars watched impassively as William pulled on his robes and his boots.

As he smoothed down his robes, an idea struck William with all the force of a warhammer to the forehead - he needed to write a letter to Talitha just in case, Maker forbid, the unthinkable happened. _Well, _he considered, eyeing the impatient Templars, _maybe not a letter, but at least a note._ Blithely ignoring the armoured warriors, William opened the footlocker at the base of his bed and removed his writing implements.

"What are you doing _now?"_ the Templar who'd shaken him awake demanded.

Smiling pleasantly, the apprentice replied, "Writing a brief note. Just in case I never see a certain person again."

"How sweet," the Templar grunted. He glanced at his brother warrior who nodded. "Make it quick," the first Templar muttered.

"Your eloquence is most impressive. The Maker will be so proud!" William said brightly as he put quill to parchment, using the lid of the footlocker as a makeshift desk.

_Dearest Talitha_ he began. He hesitated before striking out the _Dearest_. She would _not_ react well to that.

Continuing on, he wrote _The time of my Harrowing has come. In the event that something should go wrong, I want to thank you for your friendship and forbearance over the years. I hope to see you again soon._

_Your friend_

_William_

Not the best way to go out, if it came to that but better than nothing. William carefully placed the parchment atop his pillow where it could easily be found and allowed the Templars to escort him out the door.

---

After arriving in the Harrowing chamber, Irving said something to him, though William paid him scant attention - his gaze was held fast to the glowing font of lyrium in the centre of the room. Armed and armoured Templars stood ready, one's hand already gripping the sword of mercy that would be used to end William's life if he failed to defeat whatever lay in wait for him.

"Are you ready?" Irving asked, old eyes alight with compassion for the young man before him. William shifted his gaze from Irving to the Knight Commander present to oversee the Templars. Greagoir's eyes seemed flat and hard by comparison. William nodded once before stepping to the lyrium and plunging his hand into it. As his spirit entered the Fade, his eyes rolled back in his head, showing only the whites and his body fell limply into the waiting arms of the Templar assigned to run him through if it came to that.

---

"Well, what do we have here?" the desire demon stepped lightly across the washed-out ground of the Fade, one hand sliding provocatively across her own body. The demon's silken voice seemed to almost caress William's ears. The demon halted just beyond arm's length of the apprentice and, with a languid motion of one index finger, bade him step closer.

William swallowed hard and stood his ground. The demon pouted, purple flames flickering about her horned head. "What is the matter, _William?"_ the demon dragged out the sound of his name - _Willlliaam_ and ran her tongue - forked and too pink over her lips, "Do you not _desire_ me?"

"The only thing I desire is you...dead," William spoke firmly but part of him...oh what sinful pleasures the she-devil could offer!

The demon smiled and stepped closer, holding out a clawed hand, "I can sense what is in your heart, young one. I can give you all you _desire_." William forced himself to look over the creature's shoulder, at a point in the distance. Still he felt that voice tempting him, "Everything you have ever wanted can be yours - wealth, power beyond your wildest imaginings...." the demon smiled wickedly and despite himself, William found himself unable to look away, "_Talitha,"_ the demon whispered, "Yes, I can give you the one thing you desire above all else."

"NO!" William shouted as his face hardened with rage, "Don't _ever_ talk about her like that!"

The demon laughed and the sound was like shattering glass. The laughter subsided and the demon sighed, "One last chance, mortal."

William raised his right hand and closed it into a fist. When he opened it, the hand was filled with magical flame. "Let us just skip to the part where I kill you," he said evenly.

---

Inside the Harrowing chamber, Greagoir looked from William's limp form held in a Templar's iron grip to the First Enchanter. "He is taking too long, Irving. Every moment we delay brings him closer to possession."

Irving canted his head towards the hour glass on a nearby stone bench. Less than half of the white sand contained within had spilled from top to bottom. "It has been less than half an hour, Greagoir. Give the boy time," Irving spoke calmly despite the threat the Templars presented.

The Knight Commander and First Enchanter locked gazes for several moments, neither man willing to be the first to look away. Both men started as the apprentice's eyes snapped open and he attempted to sit upright. The attempt was stymied by the Templar who held him firm, ready to finish things if necessary. William gasped hugely before a tired laugh issued from his lips.

"So nice of you to wait up for me!" he quipped. The Templar who held him looked questioningly at Greagoir - the apprentice _seemed _normal but could he really be sure? Greagoir looked from William to Irving who was smiling with evident relief. With a single motion, Greagoir ordered the Templar to release the apprentice..._mage. _He was a mage now, and would be watched more closely than ever.

Such was the way of things in the Tower.

---

They came for Talitha during a storm-wracked evening in the summer of her nineteenth year. Like William three years before, Talitha was roughly shaken by a large mailed hand. The young woman proved to be a heavier sleeper however and attempted to pull the covers further over her head. The hand shook her again, gauntleted fingers squeaking slightly.

"Five more minutes..." Talitha slurred. "Don't wanna go to prayers today!" the dreaming woman told the parents she'd not seen since they'd given her to the Circle fourteen years earlier.

"Maker's blood!" the Templar muttered to his brother warrior. "Don't make me drag you out of bed!" he half-shouted at the sleeping girl. Other apprentices began stirring at this, the most recent intrusion into their Chantry-dominated world.

"Hey, leave her alone, you sodding tin man!" a voice quiet and angry snapped from two bunks away. The Templars turned as one and glared hard at the upstart - an elven apprentice perhaps a year or two younger than the girl they'd been sent for. The elf sat up in her bed, sheet held to her chest and glared back at them.

By now, other apprentices had begun to awaken, though Talitha still slumbered, unaware of the fury about to erupt around her. Losing patience, the lead Templar grasped the covers and hauled them back, revealing the simple nightgown Talitha slept in. The hem of the nightgown had ridden up quite high as she'd moved around in her sleep and now displayed a good deal of leg.

The elven apprentice and the others awake to witness this affront shouted at the Templars to get back. Talitha's eyes slid open and closed as the shouted voices roused her from sleep. She took in the the plate-armoured Templars and the other apprentices yelling at them to leave her alone, what were they, animals? Finally, she observed the disarray of her sleeping apparel and quickly pulled the nightgown down over her legs.

"Out of bed!" the lead Templar roared, "NOW!"

Talitha flinched at the fury in the man's voice and the rage etched in his face...rage almost but not quite concealing something else. She shuddered. These men had taken vows and oaths to the Chantry and the Maker but they were still men.

And service to the Maker hadn't prevented that brazen hussy Lily from steering Jowan awry. Of course, Jowan hadn't been entirely blameless in _that _debacle, revealing himself as a blood mage. A _blood mage _of all things. In the days since he'd fled the Tower, every apprentice who'd been known to associate with Jowan had been interrogated - there was no other word for it - by the Knight Commander to ascertain whether or not Jowan's influence had spread to other impressionable young minds.

Jowan's shock departure and Lily's betrayal of her sisterly duty hadn't been the only event in recent times to have provided fodder for the Circle's scandal-mongers. Six months ago, a man purporting to be a Grey Warden had arrived, seeking skilled people to aid in combating a Blight said to be brewing in the south. When the Warden had left, Alistair had left with him. Talitha had not been privy to the...discussion said to have taken place between the Warden and Grand Cleric though rumour was that the Warden had been forced to _conscript_ the Templar. Alistair was said to have been smiling hugely as he took his leave of the Chantry.

"By Andraste's grace," Talitha snapped at the Templar, fury kindling within her, "What makes you think you can come barging in here-"

"It is time for your Harrowing!" the Templar ranted back at her, and Talitha saw he was struggling to rein in his anger.

"I..._what?" _Talitha felt the spark of hostility die an abrupt death. Harrowing, _now?_ Surely she was too young? But if the First Enchanter felt she was ready...

Rising swiftly from her bed, Talitha spoke in low tones to the other apprentices, "Please, leave them be. I want no trouble on my account."

"But Talitha, that _man_ simply ripped the covers from you!" the elf argued. "That is _not_ conduct befitting a member of the Chantry!" A chorus of affirming voices sounded from the others who were awake.

Talitha turned her eyes to the Templar who still stood by her bed, face flushed, "Please, wait for me outside. Let me calm them down first."

The Templars eyed the apprentices. None of them had dared to summon any spells _yet _but it would not take much more for them to try something. "Very well," the second, calmer Templar said and urged his fellow out of the room. Talitha quickly stepped to the elf who'd sparked the near-riot.

"Thank you for standing up for me before but please, don't cause any more trouble for us," Talitha spoke quietly, gaze travelling from one set of eyes to another before returning to the elf's. "After what Jowan did-"

"That _idiot,"_ the elf spat.

Talitha smiled, a little sadly. "Just keep things calm for me...in case I don't come back."

The elf embraced Talitha firmly. "May the Maker smile on you."

Talitha nodded, "And on you." Quickly she pulled on her robes and hurried out to meet her destiny.

She rejoined the Templars in the hallway outside the dormitory. "Finally ready?" it was the one who'd pulled the covers from her. He had managed to calm himself somewhat, though his face was still flushed. Talitha nodded once, not trusting herself to speak. The Templars fell into step alongside her and marched her towards the Harrowing chamber. "Left up to me," the Templar remarked, "All you thrice-cursed mages would be made Tranquil!"

With uncharacteristic venom, Talitha snapped, "Then I'm lucky it _isn't_ up to you!" The rest of the walk to the Harrowing chamber was made in a sullen silence.

---

As her physical body lay unmoving in the Harrowing chamber, Talitha's spirit roamed the Fade, searching for the demon that was hunting her. As always, the colours of the Fade seemed washed out and the aura of the place felt oppressive. In the distance lay the bulk of the Black City and she turned from it resolutely.

The cracked ground beneath her feet shuddered and the apprentice stumbled back, summoning a protective magical barrier. As Talitha watched, wide-eyed, the burning red form of a rage demon clawed its way from the tortured ground. Talitha felt herself smile in relief. A flaming demon?

In recent times, as her skill with elemental magic grew, Talitha had come to be known among the other apprentices as the Maiden of Ice and Fire.

The demon reared over her and snarled, "Now, feel my rage in full, mortal!"

Even as tongues of flame erupted from the demon, Talitha rapidly weaved her magic, extinguishing the flames as they licked at her and freezing the demon in place. Hard, unyielding stone manifested between mage and demon and, driven by Talitha's will, the stone slammed into the demon, shattering it. It was a combination of spells as old as the Circle itself and not one to be underestimated.

With the demon vanquished, Talitha's perception of the Fade shimmered and a white glow seemed to emanate from everywhere at once. Talitha winced at the growing brightness, shielding her eyes with her hand. The light flared, her eyelids slammed shut in reflex and, when they opened again, she found herself in the Harrowing chamber once more.

The young woman swallowed past the dryness in her mouth, dark-eyed gaze flitting first to Greagoir, then to Irving. The First Enchanter's lined face bore a pleasantly surprised look; Greagoir appeared discomfited by something. The Templars stood over her, tall and imposing. Irving extended his right hand, helping Talitha to her feet.

"Is something wrong, First Enchanter?" Talitha asked.

Irving shook his head, and a smile of real joy lit his features, making him look years younger, "I am just surprised - and pleased by how smoothly your Harrowing went. I will have to check the archives to be sure, but you may well have set the record for the quickest Harrowing in some time."

Talitha blinked at this piece of news. Greagoir frowned at her, then said to Irving, "The girl was in the Fade fewer than twenty minutes, Irving. How can we be sure she truly faced a demon?"

For Talitha, this slight against her abilities and the Circle itself, coming so soon after the behaviour of Greagoir's men was enough pique her normally slow-burning temper. "Are you suggesting I _didn't _face a demon, Knight Commander?" Greagoir seemed about to reply but Talitha cut him off - let them punish her for speaking out of turn but she was not about to let this slide. "It was a rage demon, Knight Commander," she said, struggling to keep her voice level, "All flames and burning anger."

The young mage paused as Irving spoke up, "I am sure the Knight Commander did not intend to cause offense, Talitha." The First Enchanter's voice was low and soothing to her ears and she appreciated his effort to defuse the situation. But Greagoir, Maker take him _had _very much intended to cause offense, merely by suggesting that Talitha had somehow _cheated_ in her Harrowing.

Greagoir was silent a moment longer before turning to face Irving, "We will discuss this at length later, Irving." Wordlessly, the Knight Commander waved his men to fall in behind him and led them from the Harrowing Chamber. Irving sighed as he and the young woman watched them leave. "I apologise for Greagoir's behaviour, Talitha," Irving said as they began walking from the room. "This should be a joyous time for you. You have completed your Harrowing and are now a mage of the Circle with all the rights and responsibilities inherent in that."

Talitha merely nodded. She didn't feel joyous. She felt...the same as she normally did. Part of her had always believed that, when this moment finally arrived, she would have felt _different_ somehow. Still, there was something playing on her mind and this was as good a time as any to give it voice. She paused at the top of the staircase just outside the Harrowing chamber door and Irving halted beside her.

"Talitha?" Irving asked.

"I do not wish to sound ungrateful," she replied carefully, "But I have not yet seen my twentieth year and it was not so long ago that I was falling down flights of steps and setting my own hair on fire." Talitha smiled to herself, remembering her clumsier younger self.

"You feel that you were not yet ready to be tested," Irving replied and it was a statement, not a question. Talitha nodded. Irving smiled, deepening the creases in his face, "Dear girl, the fact that you not only completed your Harrowing but did it so swiftly is proof enough that you were ready. Truthfully, I would have selected you for a Harrowing even before now but the good Knight Commander was adamant that it would have been too soon."

Talitha felt her face heat up as she got angry at Greagoir all over again. "Forgive me, but is not the First Enchanter the head of the Circle Tower, _not_ the Knight Commander?"

Irving smiled, a little sadly, "The Chantry is too well entrenched within the workings of the Circle for we mages to simply do as we wish."

Talitha smiled back, despite herself, "_Magic is to serve mankind, not rule over him_," she quoted the Chantry's oft-repeated justification for its treatment of mages. Irving nodded.

"Then you understand why sometimes, compromises with the Chantry must be reached," Irving stated and resumed his walk. Talitha nodded as she followed. She understood, that didn't mean she had to _like_ it.

**Author's Note:** During the Magi origin, the player begins already in the Harrowing Chamber but doesn't elaborate on how he/she _gets _there so I improvised. Also, Mouse refers to the Templars coming for mages in the middle of the night, so that was my basis. As always, reviews are welcome.


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